Hidden in the Raindrops
by wyldheart
Summary: "...And on that one rainy day, Helga found the love and hope she had been dreaming of since another rainy day, six years earlier..."
1. Part 1: From Clouds Come Hopelessness

Author's Note: I want to thank everyone for reading my fanfic… I hope everyone loves reading it at much as I loved writing it. And yes, I am aware this is also being posted at nick.com- but you lucky folks get an extra-edited version. I originally wrote this to fit the character limit on nick.com, so the chapters were rather short. I tried to fit some together, but they still aren't the longest parts in the world, because it was difficult to put them together and still make the story flow.

Disclaimer: Some days, I wonder about modern society. I mean, would the owner of a show really be writing FANfiction about it? But that's beside the point- I do not own Hey Arnold! It belongs to Craig Bartlett. And that's not me.

One Rainy Day

Part One: From Clouds Come Hopelessness

It was Monday morning at PS 118. The sky was overcast and a steel gray color, though the temperature was unusually warm for mid-March. This melted the snow that was on the ground, turning it into gray slush that covered everything- cars, buildings, and playground equipment. The only color in the city was the bright jackets that everyone wore, although they all dealt with the mess gladly, it meant spring was coming soon. All except Helga Pataki.

She stormed down the hallway, her usually neat pigtails a mess, with pieces of hair streaming out everywhere. Her face was flushed, and she looked both chilled and warm at the same time. The gray slush that covered the sidewalks was trailing up her legs and had splattered a little on her dress. Helga shot into the bathroom, nearly colliding with Rhonda, who was on her way out and had obviously spent the last few minutes staring at her reflection, given the smug look on her face. She was about to comment on Helga's less than perfect appearance, but one look at the girl's face suggested that that was not the greatest idea, and so she scoffed at Helga's "rudeness" and walked off. Helga didn't even acknowledge Rhonda- instead; she walked over the sinks, threw her backpack on the floor, and wet a paper towel, hoping to get at least some of the mess cleaned up.

She had accidentally slept late, and Miriam had, of course, forgotten to wake her up. Helga was jarred awake that morning by the sound of a bus- her bus- roaring past her bedroom window, and without her on it. She had gotten dressed in record time and sped out of the house, not looking forward to the long and cold walk ahead. Along the way, she had been splashed and splattered with the gray mess that was the sidewalk. She sighed and glanced into the mirror, violently pulling out her pigtails and re-doing them, trying to make them as smooth as possible without the help of a hairbrush- unlike Rhonda, she saw no need to carry one around everywhere. She supposed that she had been half hoping throughout that entire sprint to school that Arnold might show up out of nowhere and help her out, as he had appeared with that umbrella so many years ago. She wished she could go back to that day, to do it all over again, and do it better this time. No teasing, no spitballs… and maybe then, Arnold would like her… But there was no going back now, no way to start over. The regret and loneliness she suddenly felt made a lump rise in her throat, but she quickly suppressed it, and turned her sadness to anger, as she had all these years, as she seemed destined to do for the rest of her life… "I guess it would be too much to ask that Miriam wake me up on time?" She began, collecting her things and talking to the mirror, "To give me ride? For football head to notice me? And now I have to go sit through a whole day in Mr. Simmons's 'special' classroom, and only admire you from afar, my love…" Helga's anger left as quickly as it had come. She sighed dreamily and pulled out her locket, only to be jarred out of her thoughts by the bell. Her scowl back on, she grabbed her things and stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall. 

Arnold sat in his desk that morning, watching his classmates enter the room. He didn't feel much like talking, for whatever reason- he was content to watch everyone walk around, to listen, to observe… Rhonda was talking to Nadine about some Paris fashion show. Nadine was trying to listen intently, staring off into space, bored, and trying to change the subject to something that she might find more interesting all at once, and not really succeeding at any. Arnold would never understand how these two had grown to be friends- they were as different as night and day. But there was some sort of bond there, he had noticed, especially during their "Uniquely You" project. Although that particular experience was still a bit of a sore subject for him, especially since photos of the event had been proudly displayed on the bulletin board in the classroom for weeks after, until Arnold had begged Mr. Simmons to take them down. Mr. Simmons, who was talking with Dr. Bliss at his desk and looking incredibly nervous, had of course taken down the pictures down right away. Harold, Stinky, and Sid followed Rhonda and Nadine in the room, and Arnold heard Sid saying, "Did you see his face? That was great!" Arnold couldn't remember a time when the three of them hadn't gotten into trouble for one of their schemes, but they still tried a new one every day anyway. Probability and fortune had to be on their side, though, thought Arnold, and they were bound to get away with something someday. Not, of course, that he agreed with the things they did, but they were his friends and he didn't want them to get into trouble. Sheena and Eugene walked through the door, then, and Arnold could hear the chorus of the "Rats" song… he laughed to himself, fully expecting to see the two of them- or at least Eugene- on Broadway someday. ("I'm Okay!" The musical.)  


A few minutes later, everyone was in their seats and Mr. Simmons stood at the front of the class, eagerly awaiting the bell so he could begin. The bell sounded, echoing off the empty halls and silencing at least part of the class. Arnold got the strange feeling something, someone? Was missing, and sure enough, Helga burst into the classroom seconds later, her face pink and slightly out of breath. She looked very, very angry about something, so Mr. Simmons didn't bother to lecture her on her tardiness. Maybe that was because he saw what Arnold had noticed the instant Helga burst into class that morning- as angry as she looked, as hard as she was scowling, there was sadness written plainly on her face that she couldn't cover up. For whatever reason, he couldn't stand to see her upset- all of the sudden; the only thing that mattered to him was making sure she was all right. It was as if everything else in his life was on hold until he figured out what was bothering her. It unsettled him knowing that she was unhappy, but what unsettled him even more so was how upset the fact that she was unhappy made him. He promised himself he would talk to her the first chance he got.  


Arnold waited all morning in his seat, expecting a heavy, wet mass to collide with the back of his head at any moment, but there were no spitballs that morning. Helga snapped at every person that tried to talk to her- even Phoebe- but there were no taunts, she never even acknowledged him. Something was definitely wrong, and Arnold was determined to find out what it was. 


	2. Part 2: See Me Running

Author's Note- Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone! I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter. By the way, not long after I posted chapter one, I added a portion to it- I had originally left off with Helga walking down the hall, but then I added Arnold's view on things from that morning. So, before we read this chapter, please make sure you read chapter one in its entirety. I'll try to avoid confusing anyone in the future…

Disclaimer- It may come as a shock to some, but I do not own Hey Arnold!

Part Two: See Me Running

Helga sat at her usual lunch table with a bowl of tapioca pudding in front of her. She dragged her plastic spoon through the pudding, pushing it all to the left side and then to the right, making little ridges and designs on the top of it, then smoothing it out. Anything but eating it- even her favorite didn't seem appetizing at the moment. Helga wasn't one to sit around and feel sorry for herself, but she couldn't seem to help it today. Emotions that she had been hiding and denying to herself for years were finally making themselves known and impossible to ignore. She was both hopeful and terrified that someone would notice this, but she was more terrified, and so she snapped at anyone who attempted to speak to her. Even Phoebe, who meant well and genuinely cared about Helga, couldn't get through to her. Phoebe sat across from her best friend now, picking at her lunch and shifting around in the uncomfortable silence. She had a thick book out, and every so often she would pick it up and try to read, but after a page or two she would stop and snap the book shut with a small sound of frustration. Helga knew that Phoebe wanted to talk to her, wanted to know what was going on, but was uncertain how to begin. That suited Helga just fine, she did not want to talk.  


Arnold had spent his entire lunch watching Helga. The fact that something was bothering her was a foregone conclusion, and he watched her stir her pudding around listlessly. He needed to go talk to her. Every part of him was screaming to get up and see what was bothering Helga, but some tiny corner of his brain was afraid of what her reaction might be, or what she might say, or… But how could he be afraid to talk to Helga? This was ridiculous. Gerald had long since given up trying to get his friend's attention, and instead talked to Sid, who was at the table across from them. Every so often, he'd turn to his best friend, concerned and curious, but Arnold didn't respond, he just sat, glancing at Helga out of the corner of his eye. Finally, Gerald cleared his throat and Arnold, lost in his thoughts, jumped half out of his chair, but didn't sit back down in it. "I have to go talk to someone, Gerald. I'll be right back." Arnold began to walk over to Helga's table slowly, leaving Gerald, his mouth still open with the question he had been about to ask, to shake his head and wonder…  


Helga saw Arnold walking over to her, looking right at her. Instantly, her heart began to race. She both wanted to open up to Arnold and was petrified to- who knew what she would say? Once she started talking, or even yelling, at Arnold, she couldn't seem to stop. Take the Fti building, for example- she had let herself open up there, and look how well that had turned out. Arnold came to her table and sat down right beside her, two seats away from Phoebe, who seemed to be both unsurprised and shocked at the same time. She listened raptly while pretending to read her book.  


Arnold sounded both nervous and concerned. "Hi, Helga." 

"What do you want, football head?" Helga snapped, meaning for her words to sound angry, and they did, but there was a certain tremble to them as well- a tremble caused by shock and sadness and love all rolled into one. Arnold did not fail to notice this, and he sat, staring at her. Helga wondered why he didn't begin to talk sooner, but Arnold was actually thinking of what to say next- he needed to carefully choose his first words, because if they rubbed Helga the wrong way, any hopes of a conversation were shot.  


"Is… is something wrong, Helga? Are you having a bad day?"  


"Oh, no Arnold, everything just wonderful. Wonderfully fine. Peaches and cream."  


"Helga…"  


Helga didn't answer, but instead looked down at her pudding, which had an elaborate swirl drawn on top. The spoon that had drawn it was retracing it, although its movements were a little jerky and shaky. Phoebe had gotten up and slipped away softly, hoping that Helga would open up to Arnold more without her presence.  


"Come on, Helga. You walked in this morning angry and soaking wet. You haven't talked to anyone all day, even your best friend. And you're not eating, either."  
Helga felt those beautiful green eyes, the ones she loved so much, boring into the top of her head, which she carefully kept looking downward at the pudding, the floor… anything but the boy those eyes belonged to. But something about them, about his stare, forced her to look up, to meet his eyes. And she felt everything that she had tried to do to keep people out, every wall she had built around herself, begin to crumble. Something about Arnold had always put her on the edge of that. Then, Arnold's gaze looked a little concerned. Steady, Helga, steady! She opened her mouth, ready to spill everything, wanting to spill everything.  


"I woke up this morning and… and…" Suddenly, Helga realized what she was doing. Who knew what she would end up telling Arnold? Panic consumed her, pushing out any room for logic. She took a deep breath and screamed, "Why do you have to always go prying into my life, football head? Maybe I don't want your help or goody-goody advice. How do you know that there's anything wrong? Why can't you just leave me alone and go try your optimism on someone else, Arnoldo?"  


"Because you're the one that needs it, Helga." The words, uttered softly, without a trace of anger, pushed Helga even farther over the edge. He just wouldn't give up. The panic overtook her again, and she took a spoonful of tapioca and shot it at Arnold, hitting him square in the chest.  


"I DO NOT need your stupid advice, Arnold! Now just go away." Arnold got up and walked out of the cafeteria to the boy's bathroom without another word, wearing an unreadable expression. Helga left soon after, heading out to the deserted playground, because she knew that her scowl would crumble any minute. She just couldn't believe herself- she had really blown it this time.  


Neither had realized that the cafeteria had gone silent during their argument, and everyone in the lunchroom had witnessed the whole thing. And as Arnold scrubbed tapioca off his shirt in the bathroom and Helga sat crumbled on a swing outside, a soft buzz of curious chatter filled the lunch room, and there was not a person who did not wonder about Helga and Arnold and what they were to each other…


	3. Part 3: Unanswered Questions

Author's Note: At this part of the story, the point of view starts flipping around. I've always wondered what people like Rhonda or Sid, for instance, though of Arnold and Helga and their relationship with each other. So, I tried to answer my own questions in the story. Some of my chapters are still in third person, but many come from the perspectives of other characters- this one is from Rhonda's perspective. In doing this, I tried to portray who I thought the characters would be when no one's watching, while still keeping them in character. So, we'll see. Once again, I apologize for the length of the chapters, but with the many perspectives, I don't want to put them together.

Disclaimer- Nope, I still don't own it.

Part 3: Unanswered Questions

From the perspective of Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd

Poor Arnold. He sure does have to put up with a lot, and I certainly hope that the tapioca comes out of his sweater without it having to be dry-cleaned. Can you imagine having to walk around all day long with a huge stain on your shirt? I was positively die of embarrassment. But then again, I am Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, and anything below perfect is unacceptable. I guess some days you could say I resent that, but never enough to change my mind on the subject.

The way Helga treats Arnold is appalling, and I can't figure out why she would be so cruel to the nicest boy in the whole grade. But then again, she is Helga Pataki. The poor boy was just trying to make her feel better about whatever it was that made her unhappy, and she throws pudding all over him. He didn't even get mad at her, either. He didn't scowl or yell or anything- he just left the room. She left not long after, but I'm not sure where she went, and I doubt it was to apologize. Helga is sitting at her desk now, as the rest of us walk into class. She looks even angrier than she did before. She'd better be careful, scowling like that could cause some major wrinkles.

Every desk in the classroom is occupied except for Arnold's. Everyone is watching the doorway, waiting for him to come in- we're dying to see what he'll do. Arnold walks in the classroom about ten seconds before the bell rings. His shirt is wet where he tried to scrub off the tapioca. He walks past Helga's desk, and glances at her. You'd think after all that he'd be angry, but no- I don't know what exactly he is trying to communicate to Helga with that look, but maybe he's trying to figure out why she does the things she does. That boy will never give up, I tell you. Helga refuses to look at him, staring ahead so hard that she just might burn a hole in the wall.

I should have known from the beginning that my origami marriage predictor was wrong, especially after it matched up those two. That would be dysfunctional with a capital D, let me tell you. They can't stand each other. Well, I'm not exactly sure about that- you can usually tell when people don't like each other, you know? But with Arnold and Helga, you never really get the sense that they hate each other, even with all the cruel nicknames and spitballs. Spitballs. Another reason I feel bad for poor Arnold. Can you imagine walking around with those in your hair? It's just so gross. In fact, Helga's pulling out that disgusting spitball shooter now. I always hate it when she does this. I shift in my seat and my one-of-a-kind Caprini platform boots rub together. I cringe, hoping I haven't scraped the boots, because then they will absolutely have to go. I don't know how people like Helga survive on only one pair of shoes. She doesn't seem to mind- how can you not want a closet full of shoes? I will never understand anyone, but especially Helga. She hasn't shot a single spitball at Arnold yet, but is just fiddling around with the hollowed-out pen. No one is paying attention to Mr. Simmons, and most of us are watching Helga to see what she does. She hasn't even apologized to Arnold yet- you'd think she'd at least do that. Suddenly, she realizes we are all watching her and expertly shoots a spitball at Arnold. Gross. It hits his back and drops to the floor. He automatically looks back, glares at Helga, and mouths stop it. She pretends not to know what's going on. Helga was a pretty good Juliet, but other than that, she can't act. Then Arnold turns around again and Helga gets this almost dreamy look on her face. Where on earth did that come from?

As I said, I will never understand anyone, but especially Arnold and Helga. Don't tell anyone, but I am completely clueless when it comes to those two. 


	4. Part 4: Facades

Part 4: Facades

From the perspective of Patty Smith

Disclaimer- I did not own Hey Arnold when I wrote part one, two, or three. And, although this may come as a shock, I still do not own it…

Helga Pataki isn't a bad person, and I should have seen it from the start. Because she is so much like me- she is afraid of every weakness and every feeling. She loves Arnold, but she is afraid that he will never love her back, so she goes to every length to cover it up. I don't think she does as good a job as she thinks she does, though. You could see it in her eyes when she threw the tapioca- the guilt hurt her more than she could ever possibly hurt Arnold. And all to cover up feelings she is certain he could never share.  
I think that he already loves her. He just doesn't realize it, or if he does, the realization scares him enough to push it away.

I don't suppose most people would think I know anything about love. I am, after all, "Big" Patty, and my reputation is probably speaks louder than anything I could ever do or say does. Sometimes I like that and sometimes I don't. Either way, as soon as I walked in the door to preschool, everyone saw that I was bigger than all the other girls, that I wasn't wearing pink and lace, that I wasn't (openly) crying for my mother. I stood out, and anything that makes you stand out makes you a target for teasing. As soon as people started teasing me, I did the only thing I knew how to- pull out the fists, confirm their suspicions, and pretend that nothing hurts you. But they still tease you, just not to your face, and it hurts every bit as much. Maybe more.  
I guess that's what happened to Helga, in some way, and I get the nasty feeling that it was Harold that first teased her. Harold doesn't think much, he just acts. And I think he feels a lot of the same things as I do. He's a great guy, deep down. That's why I like him, the same with Helga.

I always wonder how no one else notices that she loves Arnold- it was pretty obvious to me the first time I saw the two of them together. The way she always bugs and teases him- and usually, only him- was my first instant clue. But if you watch Helga carefully, watch the way she looks at him, the way she reacts to his words, you can just tell.  
I don't know how Arnold hasn't snapped yet, but he puts up with Helga, somehow. He gets annoyed with her, but I have never, ever seen him be mean to her, and he always helps her out. He stands up for her, he was the one that helped me understand who she really was. I know he thinks about her, and I know it drives him crazy that she hides her true self underneath that bully facade. Unfortunately, Arnold still seems to be going for those girls that every guy seems to adore, the ones that are pretty and have a charming laugh. Girls like that red-haired ever-so one. I guess people like Helga and I are harder to deal with. Even if Arnold isn't (football) head-over-heels for her yet, when I see Arnold and Helga, I get this feeling that they are meant for each other, that they are destined to be together. It might not happen tomorrow, but it will, someday.

Actually, I'm holding out hope for today- Arnold seems determined to find out whatever is bugging Helga. She looks both very angry and very sad at the same time. Even from that conversation- argument, if you prefer- between the two of them at lunch, I could tell he wanted to get to the bottom of it. I hope he does, and I hope Helga opens up. She needs to know someone cares about her- I seem to be one of the few people that notice her less-than-loving parents. It makes me appreciate mine more.

"Patty? Patty! Are you paying attention?"

The teacher's voice breaks into my thoughts, sending them flying to the back of my brain, where they can be pulled out later. "Oh, um, yeah." I reply, although of course I'm not.

"Then how about you come and do this problem on the board?"  
I climb out of my seat and head to the front of the room, anticipating the humiliation of this and promising myself that I will pay more attention. 

Someone in the front row says, "Like she'll ever get it right. She's already repeated the sixth grade once. Doesn't that tell you something?"

I glare and shake my fist, my natural reaction, and still all I know how to do. I hope that Helga will be able to break out of her own bully facade, because will all my toughness, I can't seem to find the guts to completely get rid of my own. 


	5. Part 5: Boy Howdy!

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone! By the way, I'm flipping back to third person perspective for the next chapter… And, as I promised, the plot starts moving again in this chapter. Does anyone know when the April's Fools Day episode is going to be on? 

Disclaimer- (Insert witty remark here) I don't own Hey Arnold, or any of the characters used in this story, just the plot.

Part 5: Boy Howdy!

From the perspective of Sid (whose last name has never been mentioned, as far as I know…)

Boy howdy!

Last time I said that around Helga, she rolled her eyes and told me that it was as cheesy as my boots. Well, I love my boots, and Helga is wrong. If I ever stopped saying boy howdy, it would be like Stinky never saying, "This really bites!" again. He just has to say it, because he's Stinky, and he wouldn't be Stinky unless he did. I wouldn't be Sid without boy howdy. It's the most perfect phrase in the world. It can communicate everything- good, bad, angry, excited, anything! So, now that we're all squared away…

"Boy howdy, Arnold! I thought Mr. Simmons would never stop yakking. How long were we in that classroom? 20 years?"

"Two hours, Sid. That's how long it is between lunch and recess, remember?" Arnold seems to find this funny, although he looks a little distracted, like his mind is on something else. I'm ball monitor this week (which was a little scary- although this time Curly did not end up in Wartz's office with my kickballs), and Arnold offered to help me carry the balls out. Arnold's a pretty great guy. You can always count on him to never lie or rat you out, and he always helps people and gives them advice. Maybe it takes awhile for us to listen to it, but Arnold always seems to end up being right in the end.

Helga walks past us, with Phoebe following her closely, but they aren't talking. I don't know what is going on with Helga today, but she's in a really, really bad mood and it's kind of scary. I tend to steer clear of Helga when she gets like this, but not Arnold. He has to try and help her out. Personally, I wouldn't. I mean, Helga's teased him for as long as I can remember- why would he want to even talk to her, much less try to make her feel better? But I guess Arnold helps everyone. And look where that gets him- he has a huge stain on his shirt from tapioca pudding. The funny thing is, he doesn't seem too mad at Helga- you'd think every guy would have a breaking point, but no… Well, he was pretty mad at Iggy after that whole bunny pajama thing, but he's forgiven him now. Like I said, Arnold is a pretty great guy.

So why does Helga want to bug him so much? Helga wants to bug everyone, but him the most, it looks like. I mean, there are plenty of mean, insensitive people for her to fight with, like Big Patty for instance. Maybe she bugs Arnold because she knows he won't fight back. That makes me kind of mad. Like I want to go up to Helga and show her just what I think about her bugging the nicest kid around…

…If I weren't so afraid of her.

But Helga's never actually hurt someone. She threatens and waves around Old Whatever-She-Calls-Her-Fist, but I don't think she's ever actually used the fist on anyone. Still, it could always happen, so I try and stay on her good side. If she has one. I guess Arnold thinks she does, because he looks like he's going to go talk to her now. She and Phoebe are sitting on the swings and talking. As soon as Arnold and I set the bag down, he shoots toward the swings where Helga and Phoebe are without a word or even a glance at me. I wonder what Arnold wants to tell her so much. It must be pretty important, because I don't know why else Arnold would want to talk to her when she's this mad. Then Helga sees him coming, and she and Phoebe get up and walk away, although Phoebe doesn't look like she wants to. Arnold sits down where Helga was sitting, dragging his toes in the rocks. 

Boy howdy! This is getting kind of complicated. 


	6. Part 6: Chasing Unknown Dreams

Author's Note: The usual, folks. I cannot thank you enough for all of the wonderful reviews, and I apologize for the shortness of the chapter…

Disclaimer- Yeah, I own Hey Arnold. And that is about the best April Fool's Day gag I can come up with right now. I've always enjoyed screwing up every else's pranks so much more… :)

Part 6: Chasing Unknown Dreams

Helga was being irrational, and she knew it. But that did not stop her from walking away as soon as Arnold approached Phoebe and her. As soon as she had seen him coming, the same panic that had caused her to throw the tapioca made her get up and walk to the benches, dragging Phoebe along and sitting on the one on the farthest end of the playground. She sat with her knees tucked up underneath her, watching the cars go by, sending a wave of gray slush behind them. She saw a woman and her dog taking a walk- the dog was wearing little boots to keep its paws clean. She supposed Lila would have found this adorable, but she thought it was rather stupid. A bus rolled past with a few passengers onboard, all of whom where alternating between staring out the window impatiently and at their watches. It was so bleak, so gray and hopeless- where did Arnold find his optimism from? Phoebe sat beside her and kept up a stream of conversation, although Helga was only half-listening. The chatter was pointless, but it filled the strained silence and it carefully avoided sore subjects- such as the blond boy who was watching them and plotting his next move. But Helga knew her best friend- Phoebe would bring up "ice cream" any moment now, when she least expected her to. She'd probably tell her to stop avoiding him. Helga wasn't going to argue with her- she supposed she should just talk to Arnold and move on with her life. Even anger and bullying were less of a waste of time than self-pity. But for some reason, she couldn't seem to get out of the rut she had gotten herself into today. She sighed and pulled her legs out from underneath her, slamming them on the ground.  


To her surprise, Phoebe abruptly stopped talking as if she had just been stuck with an idea. She got up and walked back toward the playground, her stride purposeful. Helga was both glad to be alone and wishing she would come back. She wanted to write in her pink notebook- to express what she was feeling, if only on paper. If she had to feel sorry for herself, something good might as well come out of it. She'd even apologize to Arnold for what had happened at lunch. If she said she was sorry and then left immediately, she knew she'd feel better and wouldn't have to worry about letting anything- her deepest, darkest secret, for example, slip. Slip again, she supposed. If she told Arnold she loved him a second time, even if she took it back again, there would be no going back. Yes, she would say sorry and go. The plan seemed logical… but she decided to wait for Arnold to come to her.  


Behind her, two figures were talking softly. One was a petite Asian wearing a blue dress, the other a football-headed blond boy. Phoebe talked rapidly, and Arnold listened carefully, nodding his head. Seemingly reassured, Arnold nodded one last time and headed toward Helga. Phoebe watched him for a second, smiled to herself, and headed over to where Gerald was standing, who was watching the whole mess unfold and shooting hoops with Stinky at the same time.


	7. Part 7: Written in Destiny

Author's Note: I saw the April Fool's episode on Tuesday. It was fantastic! ("Don't worry my poor… blind friend. You're in good hands." LOL! Best Hey Arnold line ever…) Anyway, I'm feeling a bit chatty tonight, but I'm probably boring you, so here's the next part…

Disclaimer: I'm getting really sick of this. I wrote it in the first part of the story, and every chapter since. And if anyone is going to try and sue me for passing off the characters used in this story as my own by now, well… I'm scared.

Part 7: Written in Destiny

From the perspective of Phoebe Hyerdahl

Many people wonder if fate actually exists- if things are destined to be before we ever realize it. Scientifically speaking, the occurrence is probably rather unlikely. I have never questioned science and scientific fact in my life, but I believe that this is a rare exception. I cannot think of another way to describe the situation at hand. I'm hardly a romantic, but neither scientific fact nor my usual feeling can sway me from the belief that Helga and Arnold are destined to be together.  


I'm the one with glasses, but it seems that I am the only one that sees it. Except for perhaps Helga- but even with Helga, there is something within her that refuses to allow her to believe that Arnold might ever love or even like her, as much as she dreams of it happening.  
I suspected that Helga loved Arnold long before I ever admitted it to her. I think that even Helga knew I realized. People see the type of friendship Helga and I appear to have, and they assume Helga doesn't know or care about what I think and feel. They couldn't be farther from the truth- Helga always notices how I feel, she always understands. She might ignore my feelings occasionally, but her conscience always pushes that aside and Helga has always been a very supportive friend, even if it might take her conscience awhile to kick in. I wish more people were willing or had the opportunity to get to know and understand Helga the way I do, but many people assume that there is nothing beyond the outer shell and never try to get to know the person within. This happens with everyone; even myself- my classmates always seem to assume that just because I win many awards and excel in my classes that I exist only to do homework. But I do believe I was talking about Helga and Arnold…  


Arnold. I used to think that he could possibly be denying his true feelings for my best friend to himself, but I don't think that is the case anymore, unless it is happening subconsciously, which is quite probable and logical. Arnold does see past Helga's exterior, and that is evident both in his patience with her and in the way he is treating her now- he has been concerned about her well-being all day, has been trying ceaselessly to make her feel better. So am I, but I have decided to wait until Helga opens up to me as opposed to inquiring what is wrong- if Helga wants to talk, she knows I am here. Although I wish I understood people as well as I understand science or mathematics… or even Italian sauces. I honestly believe Arnold likes (I have always disliked the phrase like her-like her!) Helga just as much as Helga likes (loves) him, somewhere, deep down, but what is keeping him from this realization? I was not aware you could be feeling emotions and not realize them, but it must happen. Unless, of course, my thinking that Arnold really does feel something for Helga is simply the product of a lot of hope and an overactive imagination. Still, there is something in the way he looks at her, the way he treats her, the way he talks to her… I wish I could comprehend this and so much more.  


I move to stand beside Gerald, who is watching Arnold and Helga with some curiousity. I left them alone; thinking their conversation would go more smoothly without my presence. I wonder what Gerald thinks about the two of them. I turn to see what is going on with our best friends, as well. Arnold has just sat beside Helga on the bench, and is looking at the ground, searching for words. Helga is rubbing her arm nervously, seemingly searching for something to say as well. It amazes me for a second that something as miniscule as a bad day can turn into something as large as this whole conflict had become- but for some reason, there is enough emotion within this to express the last six years' worth. I suppose this is the type of thing that happens when you don't acknowledge and express what you feel, and I am thankful Gerald and I do not seem to have that difficulty. I feel his eyes on me, and I turn to him- in them is a mixture of curiosity, confusement, interest, and a hint of amusement. I smile at him and he smiles back. Who knew a simple smile could make you feel as much as this one did? We turn our attention back to our best friends- Arnold had just begun to talk, looking Helga in the eye earnestly… And then the bell sounds. A sigh of annoyance passes through both Gerald and myself. Arnold and Helga look rather frustrated.  


"We're all meeting at the arcade this afternoon instead of having baseball practice," Gerald says, gesturing at the gray sky, (which promised rain) by way of explanation. "I guess those two will talk then." I nod, and Helga comes up to me, Arnold joining Gerald. Gerald begins to converse with his best friend, and I wonder, yet again, what he thinks of this whole situation.


	8. Part 8: A Life in the Clouds

A/N and Disclaimer: I don't really have anything to say in either of these areas. So hello everyone… I have 14 pairs of flip flops, get completely confused by daylight savings time, regardless of how simple the concept is, and I hate Jello. How are you?

Part 8: A Life in the Clouds

From the perspective of Gerald Johannsen

Arnold is the only one of us that can see the sky from his bedroom. I guess maybe if you see the clouds that close, they turn out to be so beautiful that you never want to take your head out of them, because sometimes I wonder if Arnold's head is permanently stuck up there with the clouds and the pigeons. Don't get me wrong- my man is true blue, but more than that, he always knows exactly how to solve a problem. Because although sometimes his solutions may seem a little crazy, they always seem to work out, somehow. Arnold never makes fun of anyone- instead; he stands up for every person he's ever met. He never gives up, he never stops looking for the good side in people, he never lets the rest of us sway him from what he believes in. You can call that crazy or you can call that a pretty awesome person and best friend. Or you can pick both.  


There are no exceptions to Arnold's rules, even when it comes to people like Helga G. Pataki. (I've always wondered what the G. stood for!) You'd think if he saw her angry and everyone staying at least ten feet away from her, he'd stay away too. But no. This is where both the crazy and great guy aspects come into play. But honestly, even I always thought Helga was more talk than anything else, so her throwing tapioca at Arnold was kind of a surprise to me. Of course, Arnold didn't give up there- he had to follow her around all recess, trying to make her talk to him- and believe me, if Helga does not want to talk, there's no point in trying. But somehow, Arnold did get her to listen to him, and knowing him, he would have had her opening up any second. Unfortunately, the bell rang then, but I know Arnold won't stop the conversation there. Everyone is meeting at the arcade later, and I know he won't let Helga off the hook just yet. Although he seems satisfied for now- he's been glancing at Helga out of the corner of his eye all day, but now he is just listening to Mr. Simmons and looking content.  


Why am I following this so closely? Well, obviously I am concerned about my best friend's well being. That aside, I am really curious- mostly about what goes on between those two and what will happen now. Ever since she showed up on the FTi building when we were saving the neighborhood (I never did get a good explanation on that!), I began to wonder just who Helga Pataki is. If she is really who she appeared to be, would she have helped out Arnold? But I think Arnold sees something in her that the rest of us don't see, except for maybe Phoebe- who had enough patience to get to know Helga (assuming there's something to know!) and enough intelligence to see through her. I don't mean to sound so down on Helga, but I guess I just don't know her- or what I do know of her, I don't particularly like. As for Phoebe… well, she's…  


"Earth to Geraldo! Here you go tall hair boy- could you take these while we're young?" Helga's shout interrupts my thoughts. She is waving a stack of papers in front of my face that Mr. Simmons told us to pass around, I guess. I have to start paying more attention. Helga slaps the papers down on my desk, sending a few flying off the stack and floating to the ground, then she turns around again. I wonder what Arnold sees in her. I think that she seems a little less angry than she did before she and Arnold talked, if that's what you call those half-dozen words and a promise to finish the conversation later. I still wouldn't call her cheerful, but she seems almost… hopeful? She's always treated Arnold differently than the rest of us. Worse… but better at the same time. I wonder what she thinks about him.  


I tell urban legends and stories about things that happened in the grades before us. And if there are ever urban legends about our grade, I feel bad for the guy that tells them- they will be so much more complicated than Stoop Kid or Pigeon Man ever were!  



	9. Part 9: The Hidden Answers

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay everyone- I was off globe trotting. But, I'm back home now and back in business. I'm planning on putting out another part today, too…

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold. I'm really sick of trying to find creative things to put in my disclaimers, too.

Part 9: The Hidden Answers

Just in time for the end of the school day, the gray sky finally fulfilled its promise of rain, although sending just a light sprinkle to the ground. Still, everyone decided to continue with their plans of going to the arcade.  
Helga wanted to go to the arcade- but not yet. She also knew that she had promised Arnold a conversation - but she wasn't ready yet. Instead, Helga walked down the road in the opposite direction of her classmates. She'd join them, just a little later. Phoebe saw her leave and seemed to understand, and trusting her best friend to explain to Arnold, she headed down the road.  


She couldn't figure out why the old football head was so concerned about her. He had gone out of his way all day long, trying to find out what was bugging her. All over an ordinary bad day, she marveled. "I guess it's just an Arnold thing, trying to know what was bugging me," Helga began, whispering to herself. It had been a habit of hers for as long as she could remember- having to say her feelings out loud or writing them down. Maybe it was because she needed them out in the world, somewhere other than trapped inside her head where there was no comfort or escape to be had. Even if the only person she ever told them to was herself, it always made her feel better, helped her control and hide what she felt. "I don't think I'm anything special, he's just treating me like he would anyone else." Helga mused; turning on a road that she knew would lead her to the arcade. A light breeze whipped around her and she shivered slightly, feeling the first splashes of real raindrops on her forehead. She picked up the pace and finally allowed herself to think what she had been hoping in the back of her mind all along- "Oh, Arnold, what if you do see me as more than a bully who torments you day in and day out? What if you have finally seen through my tough exterior- what if you really do care?" She sighed happily, but continued walking; trying to beat the downpour she knew would be coming soon. Out of habit, she listened for someone breathing behind her. She curled her fist, expecting him to sneak up at any second now, although she wasn't sure Brainy would be able to keep up with her at this pace. But sure enough, he stepped out of an alleyway just in front of her. SMACK! Brainy fell to the ground, as ever, and Helga walked on, wondering how that boy always ended up behind her, beside her, in front of her, breathing … although she would sooner be able to teach a pig to fly than answer that question.  


Her thoughts were turning back to Arnold, and the arcade was just in sight. This day was finally looking up, her life, possibly going the direction she had always dreamed it would. It would feel so strange, she decided, if Arnold finally did end up loving her some day. Amazingly wonderful, be wouldn't it be surreal to finally have something you have been dreaming of since you were three years old? She could still see that day so clearly, a small boy perfectly dressed for the rain, blond hair sticking out in clumps all over his head, appearing out of nowhere with that soft smile and little blue umbrella. That umbrella had seemed to shelter her not only from the rain, but from every reality, every thing in her life than might cause her pain. As if right on cue, it finally began to pour, drops falling out of the sky with such intensity they bounced a few inches in the air when they hit the sidewalks. Helga bent her head and walked quickly against the downpour. So the only blond boy holding a bright blue umbrella she saw was in her mind, and not the same one, just six years older, leading his classmates to the arcade only a few feet in front of her.  


…From a building a few doors from the arcade, a woman with short, dark hair was holding a cup of tea and taking a break in between patients. Looking out the window, she saw a girl she knew so well- perhaps better than anyone else- walking down the road, all alone. And a boy she had never met but knew so much about was walking towards her. Instantly riveted, Dr. Bliss wondered just what was about to happen… 


	10. Part 10: The Logic Behind It All

Author's Note: Wow… this is the second-to-last chapter of this story! So, the last part should be out this Friday or Saturday. Thanks for the reviews, and twenty points to PianZoe, who figured out where I am taking this story… And, on the off chance someone still reads these notes, I highly recommend you all go out and buy the new Fleetwood Mac album- it's fantastic! Okay, I'm done now.

Disclaimer- I don't own Hey Arnold. There's no point in trying to sue me anyway; all you'll get is an ancient computer, a massive collection of journals, and a bunch of Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac albums. Yes, folks, those are my prized possessions. 

Part 10: The Logic Behind It All

From the perspective of Dr. Bliss

I don't often see patients that decide that while crazy rituals are in, animal sacrifices are out. Or ones that makes shrines to their loves out of chewed bubblegum, and have to resource to punching out boys who always seem to sneak up behind them. But then, I don't see many patients with Helga Pataki's intelligence, compassion, or creativity. I think she's going to have an incredible future, and I hope I can say that I had some- however small- part of it.  


Hearing her talk about her family always makes me furious- although I've spent years learning about how the mind works, about why people do the things they do, I can't imagine how any parent can forget their own daughter's name. How they can so blatantly favor one child over another, and never realize- or care- that they were. Helga told me about how angry her father had been when he found out that she was coming to me for sessions. I still cannot believe that he wasn't even slightly curious or concerned about why his daughter had been recommended to see me, that he was only concerned about how it would make his family look, about what it would (or wouldn't) cost him. Of course, I can't let Helga know just how angry I am about these things- I somehow don't think that a psychologist that is angrier about the situation than a patient would work out very well!  


Arnold seems to be a pretty amazing boy, though. Perfect for Helga, although at this time in his life, the thought would probably scare him. Although I assure you Helga has told me everything about him-and then some- that I would possibly need to know, I spend a lot of time observing him, and him and Helga together, when I am at PS 118. The first thing I noticed was that Arnold saw right through Helga. The fact that there is more than a bully to Helga is as apparent to him as the fact that the sky is blue. Which is pretty impressive for a fourth grader, if I do say so myself. Sometimes, I even wonder if Arnold has a suspicion that Helga liked him from day one, but I'm not sure about that, and if he does, I'd imagine he'd put that thought as far back in his mind as possible. So many of Helga's classmates just assume that the way Helga acts on a daily basis is just the way she is, but not Arnold. He is also remarkably forgiving with Helga, although that could mean nothing more than that's just the type of person he is- understanding and forgiving.   


Arnold is only human, (although Helga seems to think otherwise) and it is only natural that Helga's teasing bothers him. But despite how angry she can make him, the worst I have ever seen him do to her is glare and ask her to cut it out. Helga has told me about some incidences where he has gotten angrier- such as when they had to take care of an egg as a project for school or when they were on vacation at the same beach house, but other than those few times, Arnold is incredibly forgiving and understanding with Helga.  


I think that is it quite possible, or even certain, that Helga and Arnold are meant for each other. But first, Helga needs to learn that she deserves to be loved and that there is more to Helga Pataki than the fact that she loves Arnold. I hope in the back of her mind, she already knows that.  


There is something going on on the street below me… Helga is walking one direction, rain soaked and alone, and Arnold and their classmates are walking the other direction, towards her. I wonder what is going on? 


	11. Part 11: Hidden in the Raindrops

Author's Note: Well, here we are folks, the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'm warning you now, this gets pretty sappy…(Maybe even corny and cheesy, but I'm no authority on that… I cried at the end of the second Harry Potter movie, so…) Anyway, I hope you guys like the ending!

Disclaimer: See the past 10 parts. Then ask yourself why it took you so long to pick up on the fact that I don't own this show.

Part 11: Hidden in the Raindrops

Helga walked down the road, alone, her hair and clothes beginning to get wet and drip. Walking the opposite direction were her classmates, led by Arnold. She saw them open the door to the arcade and all push and shove to get inside, where it was dry. All except for Arnold. He stood outside the door, blue umbrella above him, waiting for her patiently and watching her every move. Helga ignored every voice or whisper in her brain that expressed any kind of doubt, any fear, anything that might cause her to turn away from Arnold, and run away from her feelings, from the things that could be... She slowly walked toward Arnold, her water-filled shoes making a squishing sound with every step.  


She stopped about five paces away from him, looking into his bright green eyes, which met hers, calm and clear, but searching- his eyes were boring into hers, searching her very soul, trying to find without words who she was and who she wanted to become. But maybe he already knew. Small rivers of water poured from her hair and the ends of her dress. Arnold stepped forward and then beside her, shielding her from the rain with his umbrella.  
"I like your bow," He whispered softly. "It's pink, like your dress."  


Helga just stood for a moment, listening the rain patter against the umbrella, feeling Arnold's eyes on her. He remembered. He remembered that day, that rainy day six years ago. She was certain he would have forgotten- did it mean something to him?   


"Why, Arnold?"  


"Why what?"  


"All I've ever done to you is make fun of you and throw spitballs. I've bugged you day in and day out, for six years now. But as soon as I look even a little unhappy, you run to help me. Why?"  


"You have done so many nice things for me, Helga. And I care about you, no matter how mean you might be to me. I want to know you're okay."  


"I'm fine, now, Arnold." she whispered.  


She met his gaze, and time froze. The stare continued, and slowly, both began to smile, never breaking eye contact.  


From the inside of the arcade, Phoebe and Gerald smiled a victorious smile at each other. Rhonda and Sid looked on, both surprised and very curious. A certain childhood psychologist did a victory dance in front of her window.  


Arnold whispered to Helga, "What do you say we go inside, now?"  


"All right, football head. I need to cream you at air hockey."  


"I wouldn't be so sure about that!"  


"Is that a challenge?"  


"Maybe…"  


"You're on! Oh, and Arnold?"  


"Yes?"  


"Thanks."  


"Anytime." Arnold held the door open for Helga. She stepped inside and Arnold folded up his umbrella and followed her in, where he went on to lose at air hockey- but only just.  


Every moment counts, because some can change the entire course of your life. And on that one rainy day, Helga found the hope and understanding she had been dreaming of since another rainy day, so long ago. Arnold hadn't yet realized his love for Helga, and Helga hadn't yet truly confessed hers, but from that day on, there was something unspoken and understood between them- they had a rare and incredible bond that would their whole lives and would make their lives whole. 


End file.
